John Fox, Jr. - "The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

Samuel Johnson - "Preface to a Dictionary of the English Language"

James E. Seaver - "A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison"

Sir Walter Scott - "Marmion"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Happy Hawkins

R >> Robert Alexander Wason >> Happy Hawkins




"Where was the letter from?" asked Dick.

"Laramie," sez the ol' man.

"Kind o' curious," sez Dick, an' his vice was as bitter as the dregs
o' sin; "that's where Denton came from too."

"You deceived me all along," sez the ol' man, not payin' much heed
to Dick, but speakin' mostly to himself. "You know 'at what I hate
worse'n anything else is deceit--an' here you've been fast an' loose
with women--" Dick tried to say somethin', but the ol' man stopped
him. "That was bad enough," he went on, "but I'm no fool; I know the
world, an' I could forgive you a good deal; but hang it, I never
could forgive you bein' a professional gambler--a man that lives by
deceit an' trickery an' false pretenses. Lookin' back now, it
strikes me as bein' mighty curious how you got the best o' Piker's
deals too. Was Piker or Denton, or whatever his name is, a gambler
too?"

"He was," answered Dick in a low tone.

The ol' man squared himself, an' his face was as fierce as the face
of an ol' she bear. "Of all the human snakes I ever heard of, you
crawl the closest to the ground. You come here an' act as square as
a man can until you have made us all think the world of ya; an' yet
in your black heart you were all the time plottin' to get my money,
usin' my little girl as a burglar would use a bar to open a safe
with. Even then you couldn't wait in patience; your inborn
cussedness forced you to steal an' cheat--and yet, boy, I could
almost forgive you for deceivin' me, but I can't never forgive you
for deceivin' my little girl. You stand there with a gun in your
hand an' I stand here with none; you brag 'at no man can't doubt
your dealin' without havin' cause to remember it; but I tell you to
your teeth that you're a sneak an' a cheat an' a low-grade coward."

Dick stood with his head thrown back an' his left hand clenched,
while his right gripped the butt of his gun so fierce that the
knuckles stood out white as chalk an' the veins was black an'
swollen. His bosom was heavin', his teeth showed in a threatenin'
white line, an' all the savage th' was in him was cryin' kill, kill,
kill!

He tottered a little when he took a step toward Jabez; but he laid
the gun on the table with the butt pointin' towards Jabez, an' then
he went back to the wall an' folded his arms. He stood lookin' at
Jabez for a moment, an' then he sez slow an' soft an' creepy: "Every
word you have said from start to finish is a lie; and you yourself
are a liar."

The ol' man choked. He loosened the collar around his neck, fairly
gaspin' for breath; an' then he grabbed up the gun an' held it ready
to drop on Dick's heart. A curious expression came over Dick as he
looked into Jabez' face; a tired, heart-achy smile as though he'd be
so glad to be all through with it that he wouldn't care a great deal
how it was done. Ol' Cast Steel was livin' up to his name if ever a
man did. The' wasn't a sign of anger in his face by this time,
nothin' but one grim purpose, an' it was horrid. It looked like a
plain case o' suicide on Dick's part, an' I was just makin' up my
mind whether or not it would be polite to interfere, when the door
opened noiselessly an' Barbie stood in the openin'.

She seemed turned to stone for a second, an' then she gave a spring
an' grabbed the ol' man's arm. "Jabez Judson, what are you doin'?"
she said, an' the' wasn't much blood relation in her tone.

The ol' man lowered his gun an' sank into a chair, while Barbie
stood with her hands on her hips an' looked from one to the other of
us. Then it would be the time for our eyes to hit the carpet. "Now I
want to know the meanin' o' this," sez she, "an' I want the full
truth. This is nice doin's over a game o' cards. I wish I had
thought to set up a bar, so you'd all felt a little more at home.
What's it about?"

We didn't none of us seem to have a great deal to say, but just
stood there lookin' foolish. Finally Dick came out of it an' sez, "I
have been accused of cheatin' an' lyin' an' stealin'. The
circumstantial evidence is all again me, so I shall have to go away,
but you remember all I told you out in the other room--an' on our
rides across the plain, an' on our walks in the moonlight; an'
Barbie, girl, don't you believe a word of it.

"Good-bye, Happy--I know you an' you know me. Jabez Judson, I know
it ain't no use to attempt any explanation; but I give you my word
of honor--an' I set just as much store by it as any man in all the
world--that I never stacked a deck o' cards in my life, an' I never
held a single underhanded thought again you; while as for Barbie--
well, Barbie knows. Good-bye."

Dick turned on his heel an' stalked out o' the room, Barbie dropped
into a chair sobbin', an' me an' the old man continued to look like
the genuine guilty parties. Then it occurred to me that mebbe it
would be wise to see if Piker was worth botherin' with. First thing
I did though was to see where he had helt his gun when he fired
beneath the table. The' wasn't no gun on the floor, an' I couldn't
nowise savvy it.

He had one gun in his holster, but he couldn't have pulled it out
without bein' seen, an' he couldn't have put it back, nohow. I was
plumb mystified, an' had about give it up when I came across it. I
own up it was a clever dodge, but snakish to an extreme. He had
fashioned a rig just above his knee, an' when he had sat down the
gun had been pointin' at Dick all through the game, an' nothin' but
Jabez makin' Dick move had saved him. It was a blood-thirsty scheme,
an' I felt like stampin' his face into a jelly.

His head was still bent over an' he was black in the face; but when
I straightened him out an' soused a lot o' water over him, he came
out of it, an' I fair itched to make him eat his gun--knee-riggin'
an' all! He sat up an' began to tell what a low-down, sneakin' cuss
Dick had allus been. I let him sing a couple o' verses, an' then I
sez: "Now, you look here, you slimy spider. Dick's too busy just now
to attend to your case an' if you don't swaller them few remarks
instant I'll be obliged to prepare you for the coroner myself. I've
knowed Dick sometime, an' I've knowed several other men; an' I know
enough to know that such a dust-eatin' lizard as you never could
know enough to know what such a man as Dick was thinkin' out or
plannin' to do. An' furthermore, you're a liar in your heart, an'
still further more, I don't like your face; an' one other
furthermore--the longer I look at you the madder I get! My advice to
you, an' I give it in the name o' peace an' sobriety, an' because
the' 's a lady present, is to start right now to a more salubrious
climate--you an' your knee-gun an' your black lies an' your marked
decks. Do you hear what I say? Are you goin' to go?"

I was surely losin' my temper; the' was a blood taste in my throat,
an' when I asked him the question I kicked him gently in the chest,
just to let him know 'at I was ready for his verdict.

He was a coward. He just lunched himself away from me on his back
an' whined somethin' about only tryin' to show us the truth an' not
wantin' any trouble, an' a lot o' such foolishness; but I soon
wearied of it, an' grabbed him by the collar an' yanked him to his
feet, an' sez, "Now answer me one question--who told you that Dick
was here?"

"Bill Andrews," he sez; an' I opened the door an' kicked him through
it: but in a minute back he comes, cringin' like a cur. "Don't send
me away until after I see what direction Silver takes," he
whimpered. "He never forgives; He'll kill me if he sees me; let me
stay until after he starts."

I laughed. "Why, you fool you," I sez, "if he SHOULD happen to ruin
you beyond repair you don't imagine any one would put on mournin' do
ya? But if it's goin' to make your mind any easier I stand ready to
give you a written guarantee 'at he won't use any knee-gun to do it
with. Now you get; I'm strainin' myself to keep from spoilin' you on
my own hook."

I was in an advanced state of bein' exasperated, an' I walked up to
him intendin' to brand him a few with the butt of his own gun, when
Barbie spoke low an' cold, but in a voice fairly jagged with scorn:
"Let the creature alone; I don't want Dick to soil his boots."
Barbie's voice had lost its college finish, an' she was in the mood
to do a little shootin' herself just then.

Dick finished his packin' in short order, an' went out an' saddled
his pony an' rode away toward Danders an' Laramie. We all set like
corpse-watchers for half an hour longer, an' then Jabez straightened
up an' sez to Piker; "Take your money out o' that pot an' never get
caught in this neighborhood again. Your partner started toward
Laramie; when you see him tell him I'll send the full amount o' the
pot to him as soon as he sends me his address. You can also tell him
that I'll kill him if he ever sets foot on this ranch again."

Barbie was standin' at the window lookin' out into the moonlight
which had swallered up the best part of her world. When Jabez
finished speakin' she turned around an' looked at Piker. "I can't
figger out just whose dog-robber yon are," she sez; "but next time
you go gunnin' for Silver Dick--you better take the whole gang with
you."

It fair hurt me to see Barbie's face, so hard it was an' so
different from the real Barbie: but it warmed my heart to hear the
way she made that Silver Dick ring out. Oh, she was a thoroughbred
every inch of her, that girl was. Piker didn't say a word; he just
picked up his coin an' walked out o' the room, an' I raised up the
window an' drew a deep breath. The blame pole-cat had managed to
slip out an' saddle his pony about supper time, an' in a second he
dashed away toward Webb Station, mighty thankful in his nasty little
heart that he wasn't bound for hell, where he rightly belonged.

"Did you ever know Dick before he came here, Happy?" asked Barbie.

"I swear to heaven that I never knew that our Dick was Silver Dick
until this very night," sez I; "but I'd be willing to stake my life
on his word, an' I'd take it again the word of any other livin' man-
-bar none."

"Thank you, Happy. Good-night." She held her head high as she walked
out o' the room; but I knew that livin' serpents was tearin' at her
heart.

Ol' Cast Steel sat for an hour, his chin on his hands an' his elbows
on the table, lookin' at the pile of money an' checks on the table
before him.

"Gold, gold, gold!" he mutters at last; "it builds the churches an'
the schoolhouses an' the homes; an' it fills the jails and the
insane asylums an' hell itself. It drives brother to murder brother,
an' neither love nor friendship is proof against its curse. It
starves those who scorn it, while those who pay out their souls for
it find themselves sinking, sinking, sinking in its hideous
quicksand until at last it closes above their mad screams. God! if I
only had my life to live over!"

That was just the way he said it, deep an' hoarse an' coning between
his set teeth; an' I felt the hair raisin' on my head. He looked
like a lost soul, an' the whites of his eyes showed in ghastly rings
around the pupils.

"You take this rubbish, Happy," sez he, turnin' on me. "You're too
much like the birds an' the beasts for it to ever injure you. Take
it an' spend it--drink it, throw it away, burn it up, destroy it,
an' when it is gone come back here an' live in the open again an'
you'll never be far from the spirit of God."

Well, I knew it was ol' Cast Steel who was speakin', but it was
mighty hard to believe it. "I don't mean no disrespect to you,
Jabez," I sez, edgin' toward the door, "but I'll see you damned
first." An' I slid outside an' straddled a pony an' rode till the
dawn wind blew all the fever out of me an' let the sunshine in.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

FEMININE LOGIC


Well, the Diamond Dot was sure a dismal dump after that. Every one
had liked Dick; but they didn't know how much until he was snuffed
out like the flame of a candle. The ol' man had me make a stagger at
fillin' Dick's shoes; but it wasn't what a truthful man would call a
coal-ossal success. Dick had left a lot of directions, tellin' how
to judge the markets an' how to make improvements without feelin'
the cost, an' a dozen other things that. I had allus supposed was
simply a mixture o' luck an' Providence; but it wasn't in my line to
figger things out on paper. Give me the actual cattle an' I could
nurse 'em along through sand-storm an' blizzard, an' round 'em up in
the President's back yard; but at that time they didn't signify much
to me when they was corraled up on a sheet of paper. When it cane to
action I was as prepossessed as a clerk at a pie counter; but I
didn't have the slightest symptom of what they call the legal mind.

The' wouldn't much 'a' come of it; but one day Barbie came out of
her daze an' walked into the office where I was sweatin' over some
of Dick's prognostications, stuck a pencil behind her ear, an' waded
into 'em; an' from that on I took off my hat to a college edication.
Dick may have been on the queer all right, but he was smooth enough
to hide it. Anyhow, ol' man Judson's bank account was a heap
plumper'n it was when Dick had his first whack at it, an' Dick had
drawn a mighty stately salery himself. But he earned it, for the
ranch was in strictly modern order an' runnin' on a passenger
schedule.

It allus gave me a hurtin' in the chest to see either Barbie or the
ol' man himself those days. The' was a set look in Barbie's eyes;
cold an' unflinchin' an' defiant. I once saw the same expression in
the eyes of a trapped mountain lion. The ol' man's face was all
plowed up too. He reminded me of an Injun up to Port Bridger. A
Shoshone he was from the Wind River country, an' he had the look of
an eagle; but he got a holt of some alcohol an' upset a kettle o'
boilin' grease on himself. He lived for eight days with part of his
bones stickin' through, but never givin' a groan; an' I ain't got
the look of his face out o' my system yet. Jabez reminded me of it a
heap: an' he was just about as noisy over it too. I never supposed
that the Diamond Dot could get to lookin' so much like a desert
island to me. I got to feelin' like one who had been sent up for
life, an' I would sure have made a break for freedom if it hadn't
been for the little girl. I couldn't bear to leave her.

One of the saddest things I ever see in my whole life was the
difference between the way she an' Jabez acted an' the way they used
to. I've heard preachers beseech their victims to live in peace an'
harmony together, an' not to quarrel or complain; an' right at the
time it didn't sound so empty an' mockish; but when you come to boil
it down the' ain't nothin' in that theory. Why, I'd seen the ol' man
hunt Barbie all forenoon just to pick a quarrel with her; an' they
would fuss an' stew an' revile each other an' keep it up all through
dinner; an' then go off in the afternoon an' scrap from wire to
wire; but they was enjoyin' themselves fine, an' addin' to their
stock of what is called mutual respect. Every time one of 'em would
land it would cheer him up an' put the other one on his mettle; an'
they certainly did get more comfort an' brotherly love out of it
than most folks does out of a prayer-meetin'; but after Dick went
away the' wasn't no more quarrels. No, they was as differential as a
pair of Japanese ambassadors; an' she never called him Dad again--
never once! an' I could see him a-hunngerin' for it with the look in
his eyes a young cow has when she is huntin' for the little wet calf
the coyotes has beat her to. It was allus, "Yes, sir," or "No, sir,"
until I could almost hear the ol' man's heart a-breakin' in his
breast.

She never complained none, Barbie didn't. She plowed through her
work as though it was goin' to bring him back to her; an' when she
couldn't think of anything else to do she would tramp off to the
hills or ride like the wind over the roughest roads she could find.
Time an' again she wouldn't be able to sleep, but would steal out o'
the house, an' we could hear her guitar sobbin' an' wailin of in the
night; but if Barbie herself ever shed a tear it never left a mark
on her cheek nor put a glaze to her eye.

The' was one knoll not far from the house which commanded the view a
long way toward Danders in one direction, an' a long way toward Webb
Station in another, an' she spent about ten minutes each evenin' on
this knoll. Oh, it used to hurt, it used to hurt, to see that purty
little light-hearted creature makin' her fight all alone, an' never
lettin' another livin' bein' come within hailin' distance. At times
it was all I could do to keep from goin' gunnin' for Dick myself.

Once she sez to me, "Happy, if any mail comes to me I want to get it
myself, an' I want you to see that I do get it"

"Barbie," sez I, "as far as my feeble power goes you'll get your
mail; an' if it happens to involve any other male--why, from this
on, I'm under your orders." She was grateful all right, an' tried to
smile, but it was a purty successful failure.

Soon the winter settled down an' the snow blotted out the trails,
but she never heard from him. The ol' man had wrote to the
postmaster at Laramie, an' he had answered that Dick had allus
played fair accordin' to the best o' his belief. He went on to say
that Dick was generally counted about the best citizen they had; but
that after he had shut Big Brown he had pulled out an' no one knew
where he was. He said 'at Brown hadn't died, which was a cause for
sorrow to the whole town. He also said that Denton would be a
disgrace to coyote parents. He furthermore went on to state that
Dick still owned quite a little property in Laramie. The old man
showed me an' Barbie the letter; but it didn't help much.

When Thanksgivin' hove in sight the ol' man dug up a bottle o'
whiskey, an' put on a few ruffles to sort o' stiffen up his back;
an' one day after dinner he sez to Barbie, "Now you just stay
settin'." She was in the habit of estimatin' just how little
nurishment it would take to run her to the next feed, gettin' it
into her in the shortest possible time, an' then makin' a streak for
it.

"Now, little girl," sez Jabez, tryin' to look joyous an' free from
care, "you are leadin' too sober a life. I want to see you happy
again. I want to see you laughin' about the house, like you used to.
Can't you sort o' liven up a little?"

"I might," sez she, with the first sneer I ever see her use on the
ol' man, "I might, if you'd give me the rest o' the bottle you got
your own gaiety out of."

Cast Steel's face turned as red as a brick, an' his fist doubled up.
"That's a sample o' your idee of respect, is it? You're gettin' too
infernal biggoty. Now you pay attention. I want to have a little
gatherin' here Thanks-givin'. Will you, or will you not, see that
the arrangements are attended to?"

"Yes, sir," sez Barbie, lookin' down at her plate. "How many guests
will the' be?"

"Well, how can I tell?" sez Jabez. "Can you get ready for twenty?"

"Yes, sir," answers Barbie, never liftin' her eyes.

"Yes, sir; yes, sir; yes, sir!" yells the of man. "I get everlastin'
tired o' your `yes, sirs.' Am I or am I not your ol' Dad?" "If you
prefer, I can call you father," sez she, like she was talkin' to the
moon through a telephone. "Dad is not correct English; it is a
kalowquism."

This was allus like a pail o' water to the of man. Nothin' stung him
any worse than to have her peel a couple o' layers off her edication
an' chuck 'em at him.

"Do you know what is apt to happen if you keep on pesterin' me?" he
sez, glarin' at her. "Do you think 'at you're too big to be
whipped?"

She raised her eyes an' looked at him then. Poor feller, he could
'a' torn his tongue out by the roots the minute it was guilty o'
that fool speech; but she didn't spare him. She let him have the
full effect o' that look, an' he seemed to shrivel up. "I reckon
you're big enough to whip me--once," she said; "but I'm of age, an'
I'm mighty sure 'at that would be the finishin' touch 'at would
break the bonds what seem to hold me to this house. I probably have
bad blood o' some kind in me; but I'm not so ill-favored but what I
can find a man to go along with me when I do conclude to go." She
looked at me, an' the ol' man looked at me, an' I felt like a red-
hot stove; but I straightened back in my chair, an' I cleared my
throat. "I ain't no mind-reader," sez I, "but I'm bettin' on that
same card."

The ol' man couldn't think up a come-back; so in about a minute he
pushed back his chair, upsettin' it an' lettin' it lay where it
fell. He went up to his room, slammin' the door after him, an'
Barbie got out a pony an' galloped off to the hills.

But the ol' man hadn't give up his project. He opened it again, an'
was mighty crafty in the way he handled it, until finally he
engineered it through. The' was purt' nigh forty of 'em who arrived
to make merry over Thanksgivin'. Some of 'em came the day before,
an' some of 'em two days before, an' some didn't arrive till the day
itself, 'cause they had lived such a ways. The' was four women an'
three unmarried ladies, countin' Miss Wiggins, the Spike Crick
schoolmarm, who was a friendly little thing, though a shade too
coltish for her years. Most o' the men was still liable to
matrimony.

Jabez had an idee in his head, an' it didn't take no ferret to nose
it out, neither. He was extra cordial to the store-keeper from Webb
Station, an' a young Englishman by the name o' Hawthorn, finally
settlin' down to Hawthorn an' playin' him wide open. We had a mighty
sociable time, an' whenever we wasn't eatin' we played games. Barbie
did just exactly what of Cast Steel played her to do. She was too
red-blooded to let an outsider see 'at she'd been bad hurt; so she
brazened up an' laughed an' danced an' sang, an' showed 'em games
they hadn't never dreamt of before.

Most of 'em went home by Sunday night, but Hawthorn was prevailed
upon to stay a week longer. He had a little ranch up in the hills,
an' seemed a well-meanin' sort of a feller, but slow. He belonged to
the show-me club, an' had all his facical muscles spiked fast for
fear they'd come loose an' grin before he saw the point himself.

Barbie see through the ol' man's lead, an' she took her revenge out
on Hawthorn. She would lean forward an' hold his eye, an' say, in
the sweetest voice you ever heard, "Oh. Mr. Hawthorn, I want to tell
you somethin' that happened at school;" an' then she would start in
an' tell some long-winded tale 'at didn't have no more point than a
mush room, an' as she told along she would call his attention to
certain details as though they was goin' to figger in at the wind-
up. When she would reach the end she would break out in a peal o'
spontunious laughter; while he would look as if he had been lost in
the heart of a great city without his name-plate on. Still, he had a
certain breedy look about him, an' before the week was up she grew
ashamed of her-self an' showed him a good time.

He was one o' these sad ones--sentimental an' romantic, with a bad
case o' chronic lonesomeness; an' one twilight he told her a
pathetic little love story about a girl back in England what had had
sense enough to cut him out of her assets when he had trooped over
to this country to punch a fortune out o' beef cattle. This had been
about five years previous; but his heart still ached about it--
though it hadn't cut his appetite so you could notice. She treated
him mighty gentle after this, an' when he started to ride away Jabez
had the look of a man what had filled his hand.

In about a week he came over an' stayed for a couple o' days, an' he
showed up at Christmas too; an' about once a week after that he'd
drop in an' stay four or five days. Early in March he paid a visit
to his own ranch to ready things up for spring, an' the day after he
was gone Jabez sez to Barbie at dinner, "Now, Mr Hawthorn is a
gentle man. He asked me for the honor of winnin' your hand in holy
wedlock; an' I have give my consent."

Barbie went along eatin' her meal, an' purty soon Jabez sez, "Well,
did you hear what I had to say?"

"Why, certainly I did," sez Barbie, calmly.

"What have you got to say about it?" sez he.

"Oh, nothin' in particular," sez she. "It was very polite in him to
ask, an' very kind in you to give your consent; but I can't see as
it interests me much. I can't see that he has any show of winnin'
the hand. I promised that once, an' I ain't never got the promise
back."

"Yes," snaps Jabez, "an' who did you promise it to? To a sneak who
didn't care a pin for you but was only after my money. If he was
honest why didn't he ask me, the same as Hawthorn did?"

"Of course I can't tell for sure," sez she, without raisin' her
voice or changin' her expression, "but I thought at the time that it
was the hand itself he wanted, an' not merely permission to set an'
wish for it. In this life a man generally gets what he asks for.
Dick got the hand."

"Seems to set a heap o' store by it," sez the ol' man, edgin' up his
voice cruel an' tantalizin'. "Where's this Dick now; when did you
last hear from this winner of hands?"